Why Couldn't I Save You?
by Captain Atticus
Summary: When Max only has time to save one person, will she choose Jeb or Fang? FAX oneshot. Rated T for vaguely dark themes.


**Disclaimer: I own socks. I don't own Maximum Ride.**

**A/N: Meh. Writing this put me in a mood not conducive for writing amusing Author's Notes. **

**So, important-ish stuff: This was originally for a writing contest, but it ended up deserving a T rating, so it won't be entered anymore. This oneshot takes place in some science-y building that the Flock decided to blow up, 'kay? Doesn't really matter when. After the fourth or third book, maybe?**

"Max!" Fang shouted, and I glanced over my shoulder.

"Come on!" he continued, yelling over the sound of a blaring alarm, "We gotta get out now, Ig's bomb's gonna take this place down!"

The Flock echoed his sentiments, gesturing frantically toward the exit, but I wasn't ready to leave yet: Jeb was still here. I couldn't let him die; not now. Not when I could save him.

Distantly, I heard Fang order the Flock to leave, heard them protest, and heard Fang end the argument by saying he would take care of me. Iggy, Nudge, Angel, and the Gasman left, presumably with Total in tow.

I turned back to Jeb. My father lied on the metallic ground only twelve feet away, but a pool of bitter, acidic water –or at least liquid of some sort- separated us. He looked terrible; his white lab coat was torn and stained with blood, and a long cut across his cheek marred his features.

"Max," he moaned, raising himself up on one elbow, "help me."

I walked to the edge of the water. It frothed and bubbled ominously, confirming that it would be impossible to wade through.

"How?" I asked desperately. Fang tugged on my arm, but I shook him off. Taking a deep breath, I spread my wings.

"No!" Fang yelled. "The ceiling's not high enough; you'll fall in and kill yourself!"

"He's my father, Fang!" I retorted.

Jeb called me. "Don't listen to him. This is what you were designed to do, Maximum. You were designed to save people."

I nodded and peeked up at the ceiling. Fang was right; it wasn't high enough. Still, I had to try. Memories flashed frantically through my head: the day Jeb rescued us from the school, the day he taught me to tie my shoes, the time he killed a snake I'd been terrified of.

"Max, trust me," Fang pleaded.

The alarm on my watch began beeping frenziedly. We had two minutes left before the building collapsed on our heads. If I was going to try, I had to try now.

"You can do this, honey," Jeb said, by now ignoring Fang completely.

"Think of the Flock!"

"The Flock will be fine, Max. Come to me."

Jeb's words reminded me of a spider, shaking me out of my dazed state. In the back of my mind, something reminded me that he'd betrayed me before.

"Why should I?" I questioned childishly, suddenly feeling petulant.

"He doesn't care about you. Not like I do," Jeb answered, pitching his voice sympathetically.

I resisted the urge to look at Fang. After he'd left me because of Ari… I'd never been quite as certain of him.

"He's lying! I'd never do anything to hurt you!" Fang's words sounded too desperate.

"You can leave this all behind, Max," Jeb added. "Save me, save the world, and fulfill your destiny."

My mind tentatively made up, I pushed my wings in an experimental downward stroke. There was no way to achieve a running takeoff, but if I flapped hard enough, I would be able to get myself airborne.

One of Fang's hands shot out, and he pulled me to him, locking me against his body in his iron grip. He brushed my hair out of my face and pressed his lips against mine passionately. I stopped struggling against him, and he slowly released me.

"Trust me, Max," he breathed.

"No!" Jeb bellowed angrily. "I'm the only one who really loves you, Max!"

With standing calmly behind me, I gazed into Jeb's eyes. He continued speaking, trying to sway me, but his words were more toxic than the pool of liquid separating us, the pool between me, an experiment, and he, an experimenter.

"No, Jeb," I said softly, just loud enough to be heard over the various alarms. "Fang's right." Still, I hesitated.

Fang was right about this, but Jeb had been right about something once, too: it wasn't in my nature to let people die. I hadn't been able to let the Director die, either.

"Fang," I said urgently. "I have to save him."

His face contorted in fear and grief. He was silent for a moment, thinking, and then his features relaxed.

"Get out of here," he said composedly, a note of finality ringing through his voice.

"But Jeb-" I began.

He silenced me with another kiss. "I'll take care of Jeb."

For a too-brief moment, I stared into his dark, unfathomable eyes. I swallowed and tore my gaze away. I trusted him; he would save Jeb.

"Run," he commanded, unfurling his own wings. "We'll be right behind you."

I ran through the building, passing fleeing whitecoats without a second glance. My feet pounded against the shining ground, creating a rhythm I concentrated on desperately, not allowing myself to think. The overhead fluorescent lights flickered, and finally went out. Unable to see, I ran on blindly, stumbling and finally falling facedown on the cold floor.

Then, I couldn't stop myself from thinking, and from realizing what would happen to Fang. I found myself sobbing, and I wiped my tears away angrily. How could I have been so _stupid_? I should never have let him try; even if he did miraculously somehow get to Jeb, the building would blow up in mere seconds.

The thought jolted me back to my present situation. If I wasn't far enough away from the center of the building, I would die, too, and the Flock would be alone. I tried to push myself to my feet, but I ended up gasping in pain. I'd broken my leg when I'd fallen; thoughts of Fang had been painful enough that I hadn't realized. Now grimly concentrated, I crawled along in the utter blackness. I could feel my heart pounding, and each beat seemed to take forever to come.

Abruptly, my watch stopped beeping. I froze in horror, and only barely managed to roll myself up in a protective ball in time.

Iggy's explosion echoed through the hallways. I scrambled to turn myself around, thinking that maybe, somehow, Fang would be there.

The explosion had done its job well. Patches of the ceiling had caved in and lied smoldering on the floor; other parts had been completely incinerated. The new lack of roofing material was the only reason I could see anything. I doubted that the electricity would come back anytime soon, either. From my vantage point on the ground, I couldn't see a cloud in the sky, nor any flying bird kids, but it didn't seem right that the sky could be so perfect when life went so wrong.

Since I had run in a straight line, I could see the remainder of the acid pool. A jagged chunk of blackened concrete had landed in its midst and was now slowly eroding. There were no signs of Fang and Jeb.

Unexpectedly, a pile of rock, roof, and concrete shifted. My heart leapt into my mouth, and I waited, not breathing, hoping fervently. It continued moving, with lumps sliding one by one off the top, and I dragged myself toward it.

Fang emerged. He staggered toward me, and I wondered how none of his hollow bones had broken. The closer he came, the worse he looked. His face, usually handsome, was scraped almost beyond recognition. He was covered in dirt and blood, and there was no way of telling how much of the latter was his own.

I swallowed when I realized that his injuries were my fault.

"Max," he whispered, breathing shallowly. "I'm so sorry." He collapsed on the ground beside me.

"No, Fang, this is my fault," I said, trembling with unreleased sobs.

"I was wrong Max. I couldn't save him."

"You saved me," I told him defiantly, trying to sound brave; trying to sound like he would be okay.

A faint smile touched his lips, and he faded.

"You saved me," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Why couldn't I save you?"

**A/N: So, not my usual humourous fare, and a tad on the melodramatic side, but I thought it was okay. Please review it. Please.**


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